


Bound by Law

by InDeep



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Creampie, Dirty Talk, Domestic Violence, F/M, Face Slapping, Held Down, Humiliation, Marriage Law Trope, Name-Calling, Pregnancy Kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slut Shaming, Vaginal Fingering, Verbal Humiliation, Victim Blaming, but she's not really so like honestly does it count i dunno, in the way that pregnancy is the goal here, is it incest if she's his daughter-in-law?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27395200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InDeep/pseuds/InDeep
Summary: Hermione is married to Draco under a strict new marriage law act but they don't have the stomach to follow through with their vows on their wedding night. Lucius finds her in the family library and sets out to remedy this problem
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Comments: 7
Kudos: 212





	Bound by Law

**Author's Note:**

> Please, as always, read the tags before proceeding, this is some dark shit. 
> 
> Unbeta-ed. 
> 
> Honestly this wasn't the update I thought I'd be coming back with but here we are. I do have thoughts of continuing this and a general outline, but if you've read any of my other work you know it takes a century for me to get anywhere, so it will probably be a bit of a wait.

It was more surreal than the actual wedding, standing in Malfoy Manor’s gargantuan library in the simple white nightgown they’d provided her. Mind you, the wedding itself had been so rushed and matter of fact that she could barely recall it; the ministry was hardly the most romantic of places to wed, but that was what they’d both wanted. She and Draco weren’t going to pretend their farce of a marriage was anything but. Since the ministry enacted the Muggleborn Integration Law, there’d been countless weddings on the ministry steps, a quiet protest of the government’s abhorrent imposition on their lives. 

That’s not to say there weren’t any love matches. Harry and Ginny had a beautiful ceremony on the Weasley grounds, and Luna and Neville married soon after, a sunlit wedding on the shores of Loch Awe. Luna claimed the spot to be ripe with fertility magics, and Hermione tried ever so hard not to correct her. 

Hermione and Draco’s had been dour in comparison. A ministry official presided, Harry and Ron had shown even though she’d begged them not to, and Lucius had hovered like a ghost in the background. All in all it was done in just under twenty minutes. It’d taken less than a half hour for her to go from Granger to Mrs Malfoy. 

Of course afterwards had been awkward; they’d already discussed their living arrangements, and though Hermione was insistent on not returning to the place she’d been held captive and tortured, they hadn’t been able to settle on an apartment yet. It was like a business arrangement, Hermione decided, and so things had to be negotiated, there had to be some leeway if she were to remain sane. They wouldn’t live in Malfoy Manor, they decided, but until they found a place they both agreed upon they would stay in the manor with Draco’s father. 

Hermione was none to pleased to be sharing space with the man who watched her writhe on his dining room floor and urged her torturer on, but then Lucius was almost invisible since Narcissa left him, always keeping to the shadows and out of sight. She was grateful he hadn’t felt the need to cause any kind of scene; the wedding felt like enough of a spectacle as it was. 

“What’s this?”

A low voice broke the silence, skittering over her nerves. Hermione whirled round to find the master of the house himself, Lucius Malfoy, lounging against the ornate library doorframe, wrapped in what looked like a dark silken robe. He was inscrutable as always, his face a placid mask. “Out of bed at this hour?” He tsked “My son must be failing his marital duties already.”

Hermione flushed and turned away, starkly aware of exactly his point. She and Draco were required to consummate within seventy two hours of the wedding or the Ministry would be knocking down their door, apparently. There had only been a few cases of unfulfilled marriages since the law began, but the ministry’s response had been ugly enough to convince both Draco and herself to do what needed to be done. 

Hermione was no stranger to sacrifice and duty. 

She shouldn’t have let it bother her so much. Lucius was like a neutered dog now, and lashed out in ineffectual pettiness. The Ministry had so effectively castrated him with vows and curses assuring his behavior that whinging was the only thing he could really do. 

She shouldn’t have let it bother her. But today of all days, she couldn’t find the patience. 

“How Draco and I handle this marriage is none of your business,” Hermione snapped, “You have no say in what we do.”

She would have stormed past him had he not been blocked the only doorway out. For all her bluster there was still something in Hermione that told her to be careful of Lucius Malfoy.

“No say?” he sneered, clearly not intimidated, “You carry the fate of the Malfoy line and I have _no say_ ?” He meandered closer, and though his steps seemed to wander Hermione had the sense of a beast stalking prey. “Do tell, Miss Granger, have I been cut from my lineage since your _blessed union_? Do I have no stake in this family’s survival?”

She tried to keep an unsuspecting eye on him while she placed the book she’d hoped would lull her to sleep back on the closest side table, and glanced toward the now unguarded door. She’d never been so aware of being without her wand, the bareness of it prickling at her skin. “I only mean we’ll take things at our own pace,” she tried to sound reasonable but it was hard not to be snappish with the man, “You don’t have to worry about your precious line.” 

It was only when he was close enough to brush his toes to hers that she met his eyes, refusing to move back or be cowed by him. He glared down at her and she stared back unflinchingly. “You mean to tell me Draco hasn’t pressed for his marital rights,” he said lowly.

“Of course not,” she snapped, disgusted to be speaking about this with the elder Malfoy at all, “We’ve decided that we’ll-”

“If I recall correctly,” he cut in sharply, “Besides your limited time to seal this bond, the law also states that the particular vow you took binds houses and not merely names.”

Hermione hesitated, unsure of his point and thinking back to their rushed ministry vows. “Well, yes. I suppose. If you consider Granger to be a house, but I don’t-”

“Then one could say,” he continued silkily, “That your binding to House Malfoy is not only to Draco but also to me.”

A weighty silence followed. Hermione swallowed and finally stepped back from the elder Malfoy, suddenly sure this was going nowhere she wanted to be. “I don’t see what you’re getting at here.”

“Has my son pressed you for relations?” Lucius asked once more, and stepped into the space she’d left him, forcing her to back up. Hermione nearly tripped over her own feet at the sudden need to get away from him, an urgent need to flee growing in the pit of her stomach, but he grasped at her arm and when she tried to tug away he snaked a hand into her hair and tugged harshly at her bushy mane. 

“What’re you-” she jerked in his hold but only succeeded in tearing her hair at the roots. 

“Answer me!” Lucious snarled and shook her, and for the first moment since he’d come to the library door, Hermione was truly afraid. 

“N-no!” she cried, “And he won’t! _Unlike you_ , he’s-”

The hand in her hair clenched and tugged her head sharply to the side, pulling a cry from her. She tried to push at him but he was so much bigger than her, and then his other hand was on her shoulder and he was pushing her down.

“If that miserable boy,” he grunted as he forced her down, ignoring her flailing fists and yanking at her hair, “Can’t finish this, then for the bloodline-” His palm lashed out and cracked against her cheek, and Hermione slumped to her knees at the shock of it, “So be it. _I will_.”

He knelt to shove her onto her back and Hermione did little to resist, her face still smarting from the blow. His grip on her hair loosened only to slide over her mouth, muffling her as he rucked up her nightgown and forced her legs apart with his thighs. He pushed her head to the side, and Hermione cried out as she felt his hand at the apex of her thighs, digging into her knickers. “I’ll fill this needy cunt,” he muttered above her, “Until you’re ripe with it.”

She thrashed then, terror setting in. His hand worked over her underwear, pressing into her intimately and rubbing. She gripped uselessly at his wrists, trying to pull him away, trying to shuffle back on the carpet, but to no avail. He loomed over her like a great beast, pining her in place. When he slipped two fingers in the leg of her knickers and up into her, she keened into his palm, legs curling into her body instinctively. 

“You whore,” he shuddered over top of her and thrust his fingers deeper into her cunt, “You filthy slut. Wet for your father in law. Of course. Of course, you greedy little bitch.”

There was no preamble after that. He withdrew from her quim and yanked at the belt of his robe, untying it to reveal he was entirely naked beneath. His pale body gleamed in the soft lamp light of the room and she could feel him stroke himself to readiness between her thighs, but couldn’t bring herself to look. She shook as he lowered his hips to hers, and something thick and heavy prodded between her legs. 

His cock. He was going to fuck her right there on the floor of his library and she couldn’t stop him. Hermione cried out in terror and wiggled her hips as he shoved the crotch of her knickers aside and that hot thing between her legs skimmed her slit, bumping her clit as he tried to find the perfect angle. 

Surely Draco would notice she’d been gone too long. Surely Lucius would realize this was madness. Surely she could-

He grunted and shoved into her none too gently, eliciting a cry from the girl beneath him. Lucius paused with only the swollen head of him inside her, and took a moment to appreciate the tight, throbbing hold she had on him, the stricken look on her face as he pressed forward. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Lucius sank into her heat, enthralled with every wince, every shiver. He wanted to remember every flickering moment of this, and he wanted her to remember as well. 

“What a wonton little thing my son has married,” he hissed, pushing steadily into her as he grasped behind her knee to lift her leg to her chest, opening her to him, “Spreads her legs for her father in law. No better than a whore.” The sight of his shaft splitting her open, the raw agony on her face as he pressed further in, it lit something in him he’d thought passed with Narcissa. The girl beneath him was a worthless broodmare, and yet he’d not felt such hunger, such life, since before his Dark Lord returned. 

He settled in against her thighs, nearly to the hilt in hot, wet pussy. She pulsed around him, and he bucked the last inch into her. “You’ll take it all, witch,” Lucius snarled, and with that he began thrusting with little regard to her comfort or pleasure, a painful pace for a virgin to be sure. She didn’t look to be one though, he mused as she swallowed his cock with each jarring shove. Her hips tilted up invitingly as he fucked her, and he found himself panting over her prone body in such an unbecoming way. 

The thought of the mudblood unmanning him so was infuriating and he snapped his hips into her harder, hoping to see the fear in her eyes, hear a cry from her mouth, but she was strangely resilient, her face gone vacant and unbothered even while his hand crushing her cheek into the rug. 

Her stoicism fueled his wrath and he drove into her, intent on pulling her from her silence. He lent over her as he thrust, his nose brushing her ear as he whispered to her. 

“You wanted this, didn’t you. Wandering our halls nearly naked. You filthy witch. You muddy harlot. Craving pureblood cock. I’ll give you what you deserve, you whore.” He slipped his hand into her wild mane and forced her head back until she had to look him in the eye, and the devastation there thrilled him. Though he’d sworn to himself his actions were only for the sake of the Malfoy line, Lucius licked a long stripe up her throat to her chin and settled his lips just below her ear, panting as he kept his hard pace. “M’coming,” he grunted as he felt her clench around him, wetted with the onslaught of his abuse.

Hermione’s resolve crumbled then, and she sobbed as he pushed back up to watch her. “Deep inside you,” he rasped, and it brought the fight back to her. Despite his hold on her hair, she began to twist painfully in his grip and her hands clawed at him, desperation setting in. Her expression cracked like the porcelain of a doll and it was beautiful to him, this moment of sheer helplessness. 

“Yesss,” he hissed, slowing to push into her more carefully, enjoying the wet grasp of her pussy, “Yes, you’ll take all of me. Whore.” He thrust and felt his balls draw up. 

“Filthy mudblood,” he snarled and drove into her as his shaft began to twitch. 

“Ssssslut,” he ground out as he shoved deep inside her once more and held still as his release fell upon him, a completion he hadn’t expected to pull so much from him. He spurted into her, rocking his hips as he did, and the satisfaction that followed was akin to reaching some sort of nirvana to him. 

He barely heard her mewls beneath him, too focused on grinding more of himself into her. She must take everything he had to give, after all. 

She quieted after a moment, knowing they’d reached the end, and he settled back on his heels and pushed both of her knees up then, spreading her open as he pulled from her slick cunt, eager to see his spending drip from her. Indeed, as he drew the head of his cock from her body, her slit wept his white gift. 

Lucius dropped her legs unceremoniously and stood, invigorated. That had been much more pleasing than he could have hoped, given her low stature. Perhaps his daughter in law was going to be of some use after all. 

He cleared his throat, eying her body still splayed on the floor, and took a moment to admire the pert breasts, the firm thighs. Yes, he could do much worse than this for a plaything. 

“Get up,” he told her, and dropped his robe. He nudged her side with a foot when she remained unmoving. “Now, mudblood, or I promise you far worse.”

Blearily, Hermione roused herself enough to sit, though she struggled to push herself up. She made to rise from the floor when Lucius’s hand fell to her head, holding her firmly where she was. “No,” he said, “Kneel.”

Hermione shook in newfound fear, but what could he do to her that he hadn’t already? Her thought was quickly answered as she tucked her feet underneath her and he palmed his wet length, directing it to her mouth. “Clean me, whore,” he instructed, and she cringed at the touch of his bulbous head to her bottom lip. His hand clenched in her hair. “ _Now_ , or I shall find another place to put it.”

**Author's Note:**

> ~*~*~*~
> 
> Again, even though I have thoughts on continuing this it'll probably not happen for a while, so for now I'm listing it as completed and I'll update chapters and tags as it's written.


End file.
